WRITTEN FOR ME ( thomas shelby )

010 ━ Bad News Arriving ..

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" Bad News Arriving "

          "SO NOW WE ARE EVEN," Thomas Shelby sighed through a mumble solely dictated by the cigarette entrapped between his lips with no drive whatsoever to smoke it, nor remove it. Looking ahead, into the tall mirror morning light had revealed as belonging to a corner of Jackie's bedroom, the sight painting itself into perfection behind him was almost completely outshadowed by his hands' inability to button up his new shirt properly.

Who could concentrate on the light show of morning light filtered through thin and pale curtains, when their own presence amidst it stained the canvas of perfection with barbarity? Thomas could only be motivated by the myriad of details unfolding themselves to him there, besides her powder table and the very mirror he occupied, because to be distracted meant to give up and only stare dreamily in soft breaths grateful for the mix of brisk morning air with their perfumes.

The true primadona of this spectacle was however Jacqueline Alloways herself. Her tender skin was surrounded and embraced by the loose material of her nightgown, untied in all the right places, such that her shoulders would often slip bare. Her hair, unlike most of the time, was unbraided and let loose, an ocean of auburn waves which, much like the sky, would get darker as the day goes; but now, just for him, it was the shade of oranges around Christmas. What added perfection on top of an already ethereal sight was her closeness to him. Unlike every other effigy of the room, Jackie was right behind him, waiting to pass him over his clothes, watching him get dressed with sleep still clinging to her eyes, which she brushed often.

And it was there that his hands' failure stood out like a sore thumb.

After desire had blinded her last night to carelessly rip some of the buttons on his shirt, Jackie insisted that he borrowed a white one from her brother, reassuring him that Gene did not lack clothes, so he will certainly not miss it. Unfortunately, the shirt proved to be much tighter in all the wrong places than either of them appreciated at first, but between being a little uncomfortable and going out exposed, Tommy would never choose the latter, especially on such an important day.

"I told you about the cops, you told me about Kimber," he explained himself much clearer once Jackie abandoned his jacket on the back of her powder table's chair and walked in front of him to pluck the cigarette from between his lips. She placed the cigarette between hers instead, holding it still while she moved his hands away and took over the job of buttoning him up.

He became the first witness to how worry built up on her face gradually, a sight that though mesmerizing in its own ways, prompted him to reach out and retrieve his cigaretted — a slow movement devoid of the shame of brushing her bottom lip in the process.

As soon as she could talk without an abundance of slurring sounds and the risk of dropping that cigarette on the carpeted floors, Jackie hurried to an admission rising as the consequence of the information she shared with Tommy mere minutes ago, when they have woken up embraced in her bed. "I don't like knowing you're walking into this fight without a clearer advantage. Nor do I see any other way around this, but to take it as it comes, which makes the situation so much harder to accept."

Instead of continuing smoking, Tommy reached to the side and crushed the cigarette in the ashtray, aiming thus to free his hands. During this action that compelled Jackie to fasten the last button a little quicker, Tommy voiced his thoughts with a pseudo-calm, "It's not ideal, but knowing about Kimber's informant having slipped the details of my plan to him gives me time, albeit short, to prepare to fight back."